Captive
by g-sus
Summary: Clark has an obsession, and that obsession is one Bruce Wayne. R&R appreciated. The Bruce Wayne I had in mind was Christian Bale, cause he's hot.


**Title: **Captive  
**Genre:** Smut  
**Warnings: **Explicit sexual situations  
**Rating: **R-18  
**Pairing/s:** Superman/Batman  
**Disclaimer:** Refer to profile

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Bruce's head was throbbing, every muscle in his body screaming bloody murder. There was blood caked on his right eyelid, the blood had dried and sealed his right eye shut. It was a struggle to open that eye when he could barely open the other, he didn't remember being punched in the eye but he sure felt the pain now. He must look horrendous – with a swollen black eye, what felt like a long shallow cut from the top of his right eyebrow to his ear and multiple bruises littering his scarred body. Surprisingly, considering the state he was in, none of his bones felt as though they were broken.

"You're awake now?"

Bruce spat out a mouthful of blood, hearing it splatter on what sounded like a concrete floor. Where in the world was he? He managed to open his right eye and through hazy eyes he made out a concrete floor with what looked like the remains of the top half of his suit.

"Where am I?"

He heard the person in the room with him chuckle darkly, "You know where you are, and you've been here before Bruce."

That voice, it was so familiar. Robin? No it couldn't be, there was the undeniable sound of self righteousness and self importance that could only be associated with one person, and one person only. Clark fucking Kent. Superman. What the _fuck _was he doing with Superman?

The last thing he remembered was a distress call from Selina on the outskirts of Gotham city, by the time he had reached the slums the warehouse she was being held in was set on fire and looked to be deserted. He managed to get her out of the building before the roof had collapsed. But then he was attacked from the back, he told her to run and she didn't think twice, she just ran. He fought hard against the onslaught of men but then there was a sickening crack and everything faded into nothing.

And then he realized he was tied to the bed.

"Kent you son of a bitch, why the fuck am I tied to the bed." He rubbed his wrists together, feeling the burn of the coarse rope chafe his skin.

"My mother wasn't a bitch, you be careful what you say Bruce." The sound of footsteps echoed around the room, escaping high into the ceiling of what seemed to be a dungeon.

"Untie me Kent." He growled, trying to move his legs only to find they had been tied spread eagle.

There was an uncomfortable prickling feeling racing down his spine, the usually stoic hero felt nauseous.

"But you look much cuter all tied up like that Bruce..." He felt manicured fingers caress his swollen cheek, he snapped his head away as far as his restraints would allow with an angry hiss.

Clark laughed, his face and torso still cloaked in darkness. Clark's behaviour was disturbing, it was even more disturbing that the Joker's antics – and he was a sick mother fucking bastard.

"You better stop this and untie me."

"I don't think so, you see I rather like having you all tied up and at my mercy." He felt the edge of the bed near his legs sag down under Clark's added weight.

"Cut the crap bastard, un-fucking-tie me." He summoned his strength and pulled hard against the ropes binding his wrists, chafing his skin an angry red.

Clark grinned, not that Bruce could see. Bruce felt Clark's fingers trace circles on the skin just above his knee through the tattered material of his suit. The sheer sexual implications of the gesture sent bile rushing from his stomach to his throat.

"Perhaps we should get rid of the pants, it's torn to shreds – it's not a very good look on the usually calm and composed Bruce Wayne after all." His fingers crept up to his inner thigh, all the while tracing small circles over and over and over again.

He sunk his hips as far into the mattress as physically his body would allow. Clark snickered, clearly finding the situation side-achingly funny. But it wasn't funny to him, not at all, the whole situation felt like something straight out of a nightmare.

Clark moved on to draw circles on the underside of his crotch, causing the captive Batman to jerk his body closer to the wall, crying out in pain when he felt a burning pain in his lower ribs. He may not have broken any ribs, but they felt as though they were fractured or at the very least very badly bruised.

"Come now you're going to hurt yourself."

"Get the fuck off me" He rose his voice to the one he donned to scare the living hell out of his enemies, praying to whatever god may hear that the scare tactic would work.

It didn't.

Clark stopped playing around and went for the full assault, placing his palm over his crotch area Clark started to rub and apply enough pressure to force a bodily reaction to occur that Bruce was mortified by.

"When was the last time you fucked someone Mr. Wayne?" Clark asked, his voice was smooth like spun silk, "With all the wealth in your possession and girls or guys you could have, it must have been a long time right?"

Bruce growled menacingly and pulled down hard on the ropes that tied his wrists far above his head, rubbing the skin raw. He was getting aroused, blood was pooling faster and faster in his lower regions. _'No fucking way am I getting turned on by the fucking MAN OF STEEL.'_

"It must have been a fairly long time."

"Go fuck yourself" Bruce violently moved his body away from Clarks encroaching hands.

Clark leaned forward and flicked a switch; a single light bulb overhead struggled into existence and cast a dim light around the room. The light was blinding to his eyes, he squeezed them shut not wanting to look down and see with his own eyes that his body was betraying him.

It didn't take superhuman strength or speed for Clark to rip the rest of Bruce's pants from him, Bruce never felt more vulnerable and naked than ever before. The tiniest tinge of pink graced his cheeks, Clark smirked at the sight.

In a flash Clark was straddling him, pressing his thighs down hard into his bruised sides. He stifled a cry of pain by biting down on his bottom lip, but that only seemed to egg the man of steel on even more.

"I think you're enjoying this nearly as much as I am." Clark grinned, his vibrant blue eyes shining with untold mischief and perverse intentions. The whole look was very unbecoming of him.

Clark ground his groin against Bruce's erection, eliciting a small groan from behind his clenched shut teeth. He pulled in vain against the ropes again, trying to pay more attention to escaping the torment Clark was putting him through rather than pay attention to what was going on in his underwear.

"Bruce stop, you're going to need your wrists later." Clark sighed; he leant forward to leave a small trail of kisses from his chin down to his injured chest.

"I will snap your dick off and then I. Will. Kill. You."

He hated the way his body was reacting; he hated the stupid asshole that was on top of him. The two had never gotten along, their personalities didn't match up. Clark was superman, the golden boy. Always smiling, flying through the sky and loved by all, didn't have a bad word against him. He on the other hand, was hated by much more than he was admired. He favoured the dark and the shadows, Clark fought in the sun.

"We're like the sun and the moon aren't we Bruce?" It was as though he was reading his mind; still Bruce refused to look at him. He was utterly disgusted by Clark. And in himself.

"We need each other." Clark's sounded desperate now, his hands roaming his body caressing every scar, every bruise. He was craving reassurance.

"You're delusional Clark; you can stop this before you go too far." He didn't want to sound as though he was pleading, but in his mind he was screaming, begging him to just let him be.

"No, no, no. No I'm not." Clark was kissing his lips, trying to ease them open, to allow him to deepen the kiss.

A hand curled into a fist in his hair and yanked his head down to force Bruce to face him, the strength behind the pull was enough to shock him into gasping – to which Clark took advantage of by sticking his tongue into his mouth. He would have bitten it off if Clark wasn't using his other hand to keep him from doing so.

Bruce thrust his hips upward in an attempt to throw Clark off, unfortunately for him he still had an erection which only worsened when it came into contact with Clark's. He felt Clark smile into his lips and the hand that was entangled in his hair snaked down between their bodies to finger the edge of his boxers.

Bruce slammed his head into Clark's, causing more pain to himself than he did to the alien straddling him. _'I can't fucking believe this is happening' _

Clark winced, clucking his tongue against his perfect white teeth. "Now see that was just unnecessary."

"Don't. Don't" Bruce felt Clarks hand slip under his boxers to grip his shaft, his other hand forcing his thumb into his mouth, gagging him.

Clark sat back on his hind legs and started to pump his fist, Bruce whimpered softly against his will. Before he could stop himself, he found himself pushing his himself into the other man's hand, a plea for more than just a touch.

"Did you still want me to stop?" Clark purred, removing his thumb and index finger from Bruce's lips.

"Yes, yes." He mumbled, between the increasing pain in his lower ribs worsened by the man of steel's thighs clamping down on them and the feeling of Clark's hand stroking him was sending his mind into a lust filled haze.

"I think you're lying."

The weight on his sides was temporarily lifted and the area between his legs was weighed down. Clark kissed him through the thin fabric of his boxers and relished the small sounds of pleasure that escaped his captive beauty's lips.

"Stop... stop." He groaned weakly, all he could think about was the feeling of his hands against his flushed skin burning a tainted memory deep into his mind. He will never forgive Clark for doing this; he will never forgive himself for letting this happen.

With his thumb Clark rubbed his thumb over the top of Bruce's manhood, chuckling to himself when he cried out as his tongue created a wet trail from his balls to the pulsing vein on the underside of his penis.

He bit down on his bottom lip again, this time drawing blood to stop himself from making anymore sounds that betrayed him. He felt a finger push against his entrance and Clark's hot eager mouth cover the tip of his shaft teasingly.

Using all of his willpower, Bruce managed to stop himself from thrusting into the wet hot carven that was causing him so much turmoil. Damn he hated him. Clark laughed, the vibrations a momentary distraction from the finger that was working its way into his body. Bit by bit, Clark's mouth totally encased Bruce's manhood and then he started to move. And Bruce was close, very close.

The hand that was forcing its way between his legs stopped briefly to tug roughly on his balls, preventing him from release. Clark sucked down hard on his shaft, his lips making a popping sound as he pulled Bruce from his mouth.

"I'm not going to be too rough, I promise Bruce. I don't want to hurt you."

The light was dancing around behind his closed eyelids; he tried to focus on the light – following it, tying to think of anything but what Clark was doing to him.

"I hate you. I'll always hate you." He hissed, he felt tears swim behind his eyelids in a fleeting moment of weakness where he realized what was going to happen. It can never be undone, the deed that was only moments away.

He could smell salt and he felt a tear fall onto his inner thigh and roll down onto the mattress. Clark sniffed sadly and shifted his weight so that he was standing on his knees; he opened his eyes and glared angrily at the man between his legs. At some point pulled his shirt over his head and unbuckled his jeans, pulling both his jeans and underwear down to his knees.

"I hope you won't hate me forever Bruce... I really hope you won't." Clark looked sorrowfully into his eyes, stroking himself as he pushed two fingers into him once more in preparation.

He closed his eyes again; he couldn't bear to watch what was going to happen. He could feel his fingers moving around inside him, scissoring every now and then to stretch him further.

Without any warning Clark suddenly thrust himself into him, releasing a pleasured moan as he drove himself to the hilt. Bruce cried out in pain, it was like nothing he ever felt before, his wrists and feet pulling desperately at the ropes once more.

"I'm sorry Bruce, I'm sorry, oh god." Clark touched the trail a single tear left behind in the dried blood on his face.

"Just relax." Clark whispered into his ear, attempting to soothe his pain, kissing the shell of his ear, his hands gently running up and down his injured sides.

When he began to move after what felt like hours, Bruce let out a tiny moan of pain which only grew louder as Clark slammed himself into him once more. Clark twisted his hips, changing the direction of his thrusts, trying to find the spot that would end Bruce's pain and override the pain with the pleasure.

Bruce was anything but relaxed; his muscles tense, making it harder for Clark to move in and out of his body. He barely registered a hand wrap around his shaft once more. Bruce let a loud sigh of pleasure escape his sealed lips when Clark finally thrust up against his prostate.

"Ohh fuck" Clark smiled happily, his thrusts becoming a little bit faster and harder than before. Once he knew what spot to hit to get the same reaction his thrusts matched the speed of his strokes, sending Bruce into a stuttering, quivering heap.

He saw the light beneath his eyelids explode into shards of colour as Clark hit that spot over and over again, he caught himself enjoying rhythm and wanting the other man to go deeper and harder.

"Fuck..."

"I know... you're enjoying this... Bruce" Clark groaned into his ear, grinding himself harder than ever into his body.

Clark connected their lips again, and this time he didn't do anything to stop him, but he still didn't return the kiss that Clark wished for so badly.

He was close, every thrust forcing louder moans from his lips only to be swallowed by the man of steel's lips. Clark was stroking him again, pushing him over the edge, encouraging him to spill his seed with one final brutal thrust. He let out a garbled choke and only then, realized he had been thrusting up to meet Clark's pace.

"I love you, I love you Bruce..." Clark buried his face into the crook of his neck bitting down and sucking, leaving little angry red love bites across his collarbone and neck.

He was tired, so so tired. Clark's thrusts slowed to a stop, he felt a strange wet sensation enter his body. Clark stayed in him even after he had reached his release and collapsed his full weight on Bruce's injured body.

The two men laid there, sweaty and relieved. It was over, for now.

His breath was slowing, his thoughts becoming a little less hazy from the sex and from his injuries. He had to think of a way out before it happened again. Resisting against the ropes was futile, there was another way out and it was sick enough to work.

"Clark... Clark untie me, I'm tired and sweaty and I'm in pain." His voice was shaking.

Blue eyes met his, searching for a sign that maybe, just maybe while lying in a naked heap, Bruce had decided he loved him too. From hopeful to a disappointed, Clark saw right through his practiced look of loving affection.

"I can't do that Bruce... not yet." Clark mumbled sadly, his eyes roaming over Bruce's tired and broken body.

With a sigh Clark pulled himself reluctantly from his place on top of Bruce and he pulled his pants up. "I'll come back with some dinner soon, don't worry. I love you."

Clark flashed him a weary smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. He stood and walked toward the door, closing it behind him, leaving Bruce naked and shivering on the bed. Clark's seed was dripping from his body; he was humiliated and disgusted by the events that happened a few minutes prior.

So he screamed. He fought against the ropes burning his skin. He screamed until his throat protested and gave out. And then he waited, he waited for a window of opportunity to come along so that he could escape this captivity.

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**A/N:  
**I tried a different writing style, well I think it's a different writing style. So I don't know how I went but I'm not entirely happy with it, but I can't be bothered changing it so screw it I'm putting it up. Enjoy.


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